Author's Note: I know, I shouldn't be writing more stuff, it's lame of me, but I am so excited for Walking Dead, I could scream. My entire body is practically shaking in anticipation! Anyway, I'm trying my hand in this fandom too. So, let me know what you think! I know there is nothing interesting going on now, but I'm hoping I'll be able to catch some interest. I haven't thought much about pairings so if you have any suggestions along the way, let me know and I apologize in advance if there is any mistakes! Anyway, thanks for reading! Enjoy!

Warnings: OOCness and language.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Word Count: 5,262

I was twenty-two when the world fell to hell. It's been months since then. About, I have to guess, since time is... kind of a hard thing to distinguish now that the world has a lot less people living in it. Key word: living. There was a lot of bodies moving around in this world, just not a lot of living ones.

But my story isn't all that much more interesting than anyone else's. I was a loner for a while, I was with a group for a short time, and then I was a loner again. People lived, and died, around me while I stayed stagnant. Some people clung to the possibility in the beginning that this would all be figured out, that the National Guard would somehow be able to save us all. The government would somehow be able to figure this all out, but as time went on, people stopped believing in that.

And if they didn't, they sure as hell stopped talking about it.

At some point peopled stopped wanting to hear about the possibility of everything working out fine and accepted our new reality. I, along with all other survivors, came to accept that in order to survive we would have to toss morality and standers out the window. In a time of death, we had no choice but to be accepting of everything that came our way, or we were screwed.

I didn't go into the apocalypse alone, but with people from college, where I was at when everything got so bad that the government lost control. I remember hearing on the news about the dead walking, but never thought much of it. People were exasperating the tragedies of today like it was no one's business and I preferred to keep out of it and keep my head down.

I wanted to finish up college and move on with my life. I was studying to become an author, not something that would ultimately help me when the world came to an end.

Since my first group disbanded, some dying, some integrating into another group, I've made a point to stick close to the edge of groups. I wouldn't stay in one place for too long, because no one survived long. I didn't talk much, offered what I could spare for safety and before I got too attached, I would leave.

It wasn't the best way to live, or the safest, but it was something that I had become accustom to. It had become my life.

But, like I said earlier, you have to get over your morality in this world at some point and once I began to see that in people, I knew that I wouldn't be able to keep group jumping. People were willing to do anything to stay in large numbers in the beginning, but now people are becoming mistrustful. Deviant. Now people will hurt you for what you have. I've had my fair share of horrible beat downs and theft and have even stolen things myself.

It's not a way I want to live, but above all else: I want to survive.

I was just wondering through the forest when I heard the sound of a man yelling, trying to attract the attention of the dead men. He was too far off for me to hear what he was saying or how many were out there, but I knew I had to stay away, and deviated directions. If someone was crazy enough to attract the attention of the dead men, then I'd best stay away. Anyone smart would do their best to avoid them. Trying to get them to come to you was stupid and suicidal and not the type of people I'm willing to stay with for the night.

If I was reading my map right, if I kept heading at the right angle I was going, I would reach the highway, there might be stuff up there that I can use.

I trudging along, quietly, now that I know there are dead men walking around in the forest but being lead away from me, thankfully, I had to be careful and alert. I heard a branch snap under the weight of my boot, making me pause. When I looked up to see if any dead men had heard and came stumbling along, there was a little girl behind me, maybe by ten feet.

She was dirty and had some kind of stuffed animal in her hand. She couldn't have been much older than ten wearing a bright blue shirt with a rainbow on it. I was a lot dirtier than her and she must have thought I was a dead man, because she gasps, turns around and runs without waiting for me to move.

"Uh, wait!" I call out a bit, holding a hand out toward her. I knew I was dirty, but I didn't think I was that bad. Sure, hygiene took a back seat to survival, but I still looked human, right?

I reach up with a dirty hand and touch my face, in the back of my mind I hope that little girl was going to be okay, but figure I'd better clean myself up a bit if I was going to look for people. The last thing I would want is someone to shoot me thinking I was a dead man.

Thankfully there was a creek up ahead. I take a moment to strain my hearing for any shambling dead men or even the crazy guy who was calling out to them. I wash off my face and arms, pausing every couple of moments to listen for anything. It takes longer than anticipated, it starting to get late by the time I get done. I stand up, brushing some of the dirt off of my knees before looking around again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I freeze and look around, feeling my stomach drop before I turn around slowly, seeing a man standing at the top of the little hill by the creek, one hand on a nearby tree, staring down at me as if he didn't understand what he was seeing.

I hold up my hands, spotting the gun strapped to his leg. "I'm alive," I say, worried I may not have done a good enough job cleaning myself up and still looked dead. "I'm not infected either," I say after almost an entire minute of silence. The man just stares down at me, eyes roaming my body, taking in my dirty and ripped clothes, backpack, machete hanging out of the backpack top, knife strapped to my right thigh and gun strapped to my left.

He's cleaner than I expected. But his white shirt is very dirty. Bloody on one side, sweat stains and muddy.

I don't know what he's just staring at me for, I wondered if for a moment he was a dead man and just hadn't realized I was food yet until I heard someone step into the water behind me. The sound of a foot sloshing in the mud.

I turn just in time to see another man with a gun pointed to my forehead.

"Keep your hands where I can see 'em," the second man snarls.

I don't respond. I can't very well hold them up any higher than I already am, but since I don't have a death wish, I don't say that. I just keep my hands up.

"Where's the girl?" the second man asks, bringing the barrel closer to my forehead.

I lean back a bit, uncomfortable. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You know what I'm talking about, she was right here!" the man snarls taking a threatening step closer. I take a step back, glancing back at the other man to see him frowning unhappily.

"Shane," the other man says slowly.

"This is where you left her, right, Rick?" the second man says, thick southern drawl present in his gruff voice. His brown eyes narrow dangerously. "You left Sophia here and we return to this person?"

There is a pause before the first man climbs down into the water, peaking down into the little alcove beneath where he was standing before turning toward me. He looks me up and down before finally saying, "Put the gun away, Shane. We ain't shooting anybody out here. Especially not after what we saw before. Besides, this could just be a coincidence." The man in front of me doesn't move right away, and almost looks like he's not going to listen, before he finally obeys, holstering his gun but not taking his eye off me.

"Thanks..." I murmur, not sure what else to say.

"What are you thanking us for?" the second man - Shane, I think - asks suspiciously.

I stare at him for a moment, wondering if he was for real. "For not shooting me in the head," I tell him evenly.

"You're welcome," the other man says, stepping closer to me. I slowly lower my arms, hoping that I'm not going to suddenly get shanked for moving too quickly. Once I realize the first man - Rick, I think - is in charge and didn't think I was a threat, I relax a little bit. "Look," Rick says, looking around for a moment before returning his blue eyes to me, "We're looking for a twelve year old girl. Her name is Sophia, have you seen her?"

I spot two more men approaching from the same place Rick came from, one wielding a crossbow and the other is an Asian boy in a baseball cap. Rick glances over his shoulder at them, before turning his gaze back to me.

"They're with me," he says. "Now, Sophia?"

I blink a few times, bring my gaze back to up to Rick. "Um, no. I haven't seen anyone like that," I tell him, then remember.

He must have noticed the sudden shift in my demeanor for he steps a little bit closer, voice more intense now as he asks, "Did you just remember something? Did you see her?"

"Was she wearing a blue shirt with a rainbow on it?" I ask.

"Yeah, she was!" the Asian young man says. "You saw her?"

"When?" the crossbow wielding man asks. I must have taken too long trying to figure out how long ago that was because he snaps, "When?" Again. Making me jump. I stare up at him for a moment.

"Daryl," Rick says evenly, calmly, before saying to me, "When, miss? She's just a little girl. She shouldn't be out there by herself. Anything you can give me could help us find her."

I nod slowly. "Um, maybe twenty-five... thirty minutes ago, maybe? We saw each other but I was really dirty, she must have thought I was a dead man and ran in the opposite direction."

The men look around at each other, speaking with their eyes before Rick turns to me once more. "Can you show us where you saw her?"

I stand and wait, watching as the crossbow wielding guy stares at the ground, occasionally kneeling down to move dirt and leaves aside before moving on. He reminds me of a hunter tracking his prey, which I suppose is the point. He stops a bit to my left a few feet in front of me before turning away a bit, then looks up at Rick.

"She's telling the truth," he says, voice soft and raspy. He squints at me for a moment before looking back up at Rick. "Sophia made it to about here before she turned and headed in that direction. It fits."

Rick looks toward the direction Sophia ran off to, muttering something under his breath before turning back toward me. "Thank you for taking us here. Tell me, did you come from that direction? Are there walkers in that direction?"

I shake my head. "No. I haven't seen... any of the dead men in that direction for a while. I killed any that I came across, but there wasn't much. I guess that's because other than these woods it's mostly farmlands around here."

All four men perk up at that.

"Farms?" The Asian boy asks, eyes wide. He looks at Rick. "Maybe Sophia came across a farm? Do you think someone would have taken her in?" He looks around at some of the others. He looks at me too. "Do you think so?" He asks.

I shrug my shoulders. Normally, because of how the world is becoming, I would say no, but Sophia is a little girl, there is a chance that someone may have taken pity on her. That is, if there is anyone out there. "I suppose so," I tell him. "She is just a little girl anyhow, that's got to amount for something. If she did end up finding a farm that wasn't abandon then there is a chance someone took her in." I wouldn't get my hopes up, though, I don't say. Nothing good would come of it if I did.

The boy, around my age, looks relieved. "So, there's a chance."

"Sure," I say, but by the frown marring Rick, Shane and the hunter's face, they must have heard the lack of optimism in my voice.

"Have you come across any farms with people?" the hunter asks, resting his right elbow on his right thigh, still squinting up at me, despite it getting late and the sun is setting.

I shake my head. "Never got close enough to one."

"Why?" Shane asks. "Why are you out here on your own, anyway? Girl like you?"

I wanted to ask him what that meant. Girl like me? I don't think that there was anything particularly different about me. Or assuming, I mean. I was average height for a girl, 5'5. I had long, messy brown hair and green eyes. Nothing special. I didn't look like a Barbie doll, nor do I talk like one. I was just a normal, average girl trying to survive the apocalypse. That's all.

I shake my head. "Not the way I came. Though I didn't stop at any farms, I just saw them in the distance before I entered this forest." I lean against the tree to my left, scanning the forest for a moment with my eyes, making sure no dead men catch me off guard. I glance over my shoulder, searching the forest, but it's getting harder to see as the daylight is dwindling.

It won't be long now before the forest is pitch black and it'll be impossible to see. And that's a very dangerous place to be. Open on all sides by things that don't sleep, get tired or just stop. The dead men will continue to come after us. They will never stop.

Just thinking about it is making the hairs on my arms stand up on end. I run my hands up and down my bare arms, looking around a little bit more paranoid before forcing myself to relax. The last thing I want is to make these people think that I'm up to something rather than just fearing about invisible dead men walking around us. While a legitimate fear, I'm not sure these guys are in the mood for paranoia.

Rick turns to the hunter, "It's getting too late to keep searching, isn't it?"

He looks up at the sky, still squinting before shrugging his shoulders. "It'll be a hell of a lot harder to track in the dark. And that's ignoring walkers."

Rick sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking around helplessly for a moment before coming to a decision. He turns toward Shane, "You and Glenn head back to camp, tell them what's going on. Daryl and I will keep going for a bit more. Maybe we can find her before it gets too late."

Shane nods, putting his hands onto his hips and turning his brown eyes toward me. "And her?"

I look over at Rick, surprised that I was suddenly part of the equation. "You don't have to worry about me," I tell him when Rick opens his mouth. "I hope you find Sophia. I'm sorry I scared her away. She must have been heading toward the highway. I'm sorry, again. You don't have to concern yourself with me. Just dedicate your energy to finding Sophia."

Rick nods slowly. "That's very kind of you to say." A pause, then, "Would you like to help us? You've been a great help so far and we could use the help."

"Rick," Shane says, looking around for a moment, down at me, over at who I know now is Glenn and Daryl before stepping closer to Rick. "Can I talk to you, in private?"

"It's alright," I say quickly, holding up my hands. "There is no need to get into an argument on my account, really."

"No, wait a moment," Glenn says. "I agree with Rick. We can't just leave you out here by yourself. It's getting dark and it's not safe to be out here when it is. I don't know," he looks around helplessly, "it just doesn't feel right."

"She doesn't want to be with us, Rick," Shane says.

"That's not what she said," Rick says, shaking his head.

"She just said it," Shane argues.

"She said she doesn't want to be the reason for us fighting," Daryl says, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat building up on his forehead away. "A lot of good that did," he mutters more to himself.

Rick turns away for a moment, obviously torn between his obligation to look for this little girl, and helping out someone else - me. Arguing is just wasting time and I think he realizes it. After a moment of mental debate, he turns back to Shane and says, "Tonight. We'll decide what to do as a group in the morning. Okay?"

"We could all be dead in the morning," Shane says and I don't like the insinuation. I know it's not smart to trust strangers out on the road, even before the end of the world, but it still doesn't mean I like being thought of as a possible serial killer. I would never hurt the living. I still feel sick to my stomach after killing the... dead? Are they considered dead if they are still up and moving about?

I shake the thought away. Now is not the time to be having a mental debate that will ultimately lead me no where. Or help me at all, in the slightest.

"Wow," Glenn says. "On what basis do you say that?"

"She's a stranger!" Shane says, and I flinch, hearing his voice pierce the silence of the forest around us. I shift back and forth on my legs uncomfortably. "You're gonna let some strange girl around Carl?"

What the hell did he think I was going to do? I don't know who this Carl person is, but once again, I'm insulted by the insinuation. I'm not exactly sure why I'm still standing here, but in truth I'm a bit afraid to turn my back on these guys. They don't seem crazy, except for this Shane guy. I mean, I can understand where he's coming from, this being a new world and me being a stranger, but I also don't believe in unbiased assumptions. I haven't done anything wrong since we met, but I'm just given a bad feeling about this Shane guy. He's got a weird look in his eye that I don't like.

And it's not just because he assumes a lot of unsavory things about me. That's just part of it.

"Fine," Rick says, looking between the three men. "We'll take her with us now, you two go back, talk with the group. Before long Daryl or I will come back, see what the decision is, and then we'll decide from there. Happy?"

Shane sighs again, running his hand through his dark hair before making an ambiguous gesture with his hands and says sourly, "Fine, Rick. Come on, Glenn, let's go."

Glenn nods, glancing over at me before tipping his chin down a bit and following after Shane into the forest past me, toward the highway.

None of us move for about a minute, listening to their retreating footsteps until I can no longer hear them. Once that happens, I look up at Rick, "You don't have to do this. I can help you look, but I don't need a place to stay tonight," which is a lie, "I feel bad for scaring her away. But there is no need to get into an argument for my sake. If I can help you find her, can you take that as my apology for scaring her away from your camp?"

Rick looks down at Daryl, who does a little half shrug before looking down at the ground while Rick turns back to me. "Yes, it will. Thank you," Rick says, then to Darly, "lead the way."

It was getting pretty dark by the time we made it up to just outside of Rick and Daryl's camp. There wasn't a lot of talking, we did kill a few dead men, even cut one open that had eaten recently. A woodchuck, is what Daryl said. It looked like a skull to me, I couldn't tell what it was and took his word for it. When we got to the bottom of the hill beneath the highway, Rick takes a moment to go up there and talk with their group while Daryl was left to stay with me.

He leans against a nearby tree, crossing his bare arms over his chest. Seeing as he's not a man of many words, I lean against a different tree and sit down. My legs and feet are killing me. Have been for the last few days. It's been a long time since I've stopped to take a rest. It's rough on my own. To be honest, I'm surprised I made it this far. I'm not even all that sure I know what I'm looking for. I do like it more in a group, but I just don't like watching people I've come to like die and then come back.

I just hate doing it.

It's better to leave on amicable terms with them while they are alive. It's only been a little over an hour and I already like Rick. Glenn is okay and so is Daryl. I'm sure Shane is a good guy, but I just don't see the two of us being friends.

I'm not sure how long we sat in silence but surprisingly, Daryl, who I thought was okay with it, was the first to break it. He turns to look at me and says, plainly, "What's a girl like you doing out on your own?"

Why do people keep saying, 'girl like you'?

"I don't like seeing people die," I tell him plainly, reaching to the back of my neck, feeling the strands of hair too short to be held up in my ponytail and sticking onto the back of my neck.

Daryl breaths out a rough but amused breath of air. "Not a lot of much else going on, girlie."

"I know," I say softly, despite his dry amusement. "That's why I don't stick around for too long. That's why I keep to myself."

I'm not sure what he thinks about that and I'm sure as hell not looking to see, but he doesn't say anything else afterward. And a few minutes later, Rick calls down for us to come up. I push myself back up to my feet, letting out a whooshed breath of pain, my legs aching, before following Daryl up the path to the highway where the rest of the group had formed a semi-circle, waiting for us.

I climb over the guard rail and look around at the collective group of people. More than I've seen in a while.

"Introductions are in order," Rick says, putting his hand on a boy's, probably about ten years old, shoulder. "I'm Rick Grimes, this is my son, Carl, and my wife," he nods toward the tall, stick thin brunette next to him, "Lori."

"T-dog," the black man with a large bandage on his arm says, then offers a half-hearted smile, still unsure.

Lori speaks next, glancing over at the short, gray haired woman next to her. "This is Carol, she's Sophia's mom."

"I... see..." I say, not sure what else to say to that. Sorry?

"You know Daryl Dixon," Rick says smoothly, trying to get this moving along. "This is Andrea," an angry looking blond next to T-dog, "and next to her is Dale."

"Nice to meet you," Dale, an older man wearing a fishing hat with an all white beard, says. The steps forward to offer me his hand. It took me a split second to return the gesture and give him a little shake.

"You too," I murmur. "I'm Kylie Sanders. A lot of good last names do us anymore, but yeah. That's me."

"And, as you know, Glenn and Shane," Rick finishes up introductions. I nod once to Glenn, he nods back and I glance over at Shane, but he's staring at Rick, as if trying to pick up on something.

"It's nice to meet you," Lori says. "So, we should talk about sleeping arrangements before it gets too late."

"Don't worry about me," I say, holding up my hands. "I'll stay out of your way. I'll find my own place to sleep tonight."

Lori's eyebrows pull together, and she looks around at the other members of the group. "No, there is no reason for you to be thrown out into the cold tonight. You can stay with us, it's what we agreed upon." She looks around. "Right?"

"No," I say. "No one will get any sleep if a stranger like me is close. I know I won't. I believe in safety in proximity. I'll find a car for myself and stay there until morning. I've cause enough trouble as it is. I can take care of myself. Thank you for letting me stay close, I won't be a bother." I look around for a moment before heading down the highway a bit.

"Wait," Rick and Lori both call out, then glance at each other, before Lori continues, "Please stay for dinner. We can eat together at least, right? Get to know each other better."

I look around for a moment wondering if I should find some reason to decline, but something tells me they'll continue to be insistent so I should just bite the bullet and give them what they want. My parents used to tell me that I'm an appeasing personality. And I don't think I can adamantly say that I'm not. Even ever since the end of the world, I've kept that personality trait.

"Okay," I concede, walking back over to them.

"So, tell us about yourself, Kylie," Rick asks as we stand around outside, eating in a long stretch of silence. "Where were you before the apocalypse? What were you before that?"

"I was in college," I tell him, shrugging. "There isn't anything much else special about me. Not that going to college is special," I mumble that last part to myself.

"What about your family?" Lori asks. "Do you know where they are?"

I shake my head. "No, I don't know. They lived out of state, and right as the world was going down hill they gave me a call, telling me to stay put. The National Guard had occupied the town they lived in. I don't know where they are now or if there is any way to get to them. I'm hoping that where ever they are, they're safe." I don't continue. The 'but...' hangs in the air, unsaid. There is no way to know for sure, and it's just being optimistic.

"Well," Lori says, "I hope that you find them soon."

I nod. "Thanks."

Lori opens her mouth, probably going to try to say something else in an attempt to comfort me, but then decides against it. She looks over at Rick, making a little shrugging motion before looking away.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," Carol says, turning and heading toward one of the cars.

"She's right," Rick says, looking around the group. "I think that we need to all get to bed. We are going to have an early morning."

"Right," Lori says, patting Carl's shoulder. "Time for bed."

"Goodnight," I murmur before turning around, scanning the cars around me for one suitable for the night. I pick one and head over to it. It's away from the group a bit, but not out of sight from them. If I need to get to them, or them to me, for whatever reason, then it won't be too much. While at the same time, I don't have to worry about them sneaking up on me and me on them. It's a win for both sides. I mean, I think they are all nice enough, it's not anything like that.

I check around the car, then inside of it. The air is sort of stale from the inside being closed off from the world. But it's safe, there's nothing in there that wants to eat me and it keeps the chill out. It doesn't get too cold here in Georgia, but it can get a bit chilly at night. I should know, I've slept outside enough times to become familiar with it.

I curl up into a ball in the back seat, closing my eyes. I lean my foot against the door and my head against the other, if either move, even slightly, I'll know. I haven't met a dead man yet that can open doors, but I wouldn't want to risk it. Besides, dead men aren't the only things out there. Now I'm the one that sounds paranoid. And judgmental. And presumptuous.

I open my eyes, turning onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I was right about one thing; I'm not going to be getting any sleep tonight. I keep seeing Sophia in my head. Pale, scared and running away from the people that want nothing more than to look out for her. And love her. And because of me, she ran in the opposite direction. She could be out there, scared and alone. Or worse. But I shouldn't think like that. It only leads to trouble.

And I wouldn't want to jinx Sophia's luck like that.